


A Minor Injury

by excessiveprepositionalphrases



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff, Garashir - Freeform, M/M, Medical, Tain was a bad dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22030003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excessiveprepositionalphrases/pseuds/excessiveprepositionalphrases
Summary: This is a short little early Garashir interaction that I posted on tumblr a while back but I figured belonged here too. Garak picks up a minor injury while sewing and learns to trust his very handsome doctor.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 19
Kudos: 134





	A Minor Injury

_You’re bleeding._

Garak looked down. A thin trickle of red liquid ran down the back of his hand. He winced as the cut began to sting. One slip with a cutter…

_It’s fine. It’ll heal. You don’t need treatment. Minor injuries do not justify medical intervention. Keep working. Stop crying, Elim. Stop whining, Elim. Carry on with your work._

_No. That is over. He’s not here to tell you what to do any more._ Garak breathed and looked around his shop. _This is your life now._

He looked at his hand again just in time to see the blood about to drip onto the pale fabric beneath. He grabbed a bit of fabric from the scrap pile and mopped the blood from the back of his hand.

 _It doesn’t matter what Tain would have told you. This is your decision. Does that need treatment?_ Garak processed the thought. It was a minor cut. Images flashed through his mind, memories the last time he needed medical treatment. A military doctor, leaning over him. _It’s not that bad. You’ll live. This is going to hurt._ He could still feel the nearly unbearable pain of the blade slicing into his skin, the sensation of the small chip of metal being removed, the burning, burning of the antiseptic. _Do not show pain. Do not show fear._ He could remember, as much shame as it carried, the feeling of a single tear biting at his eye. The sharp bite of a needle going through his skin as the doctor sutured the gaping wound in his thigh.

Garak centered himself again. No, this definitely does not need treatment. He tried his best to focus on his work. By the time he pulled himself out of the memory, the blood was beginning to drip again. The fabric he was sewing on was blue, pale blue, and the red dripping down his hand threatened it. He would have to stay on top the bleeding to keep it from damaging the fabric, but that was manageable. Stitch, cut, mop up the blood, stitch, cut, mop up the blood. He carried on this way for at least 15 minutes.

 _That really should have stopped bleeding by now._ Garak might not have known much about medicine, but he knew that cuts were not supposed to bleed forever, and he couldn’t keep up with the dripping any longer. He took a deep breath. _This is not Cardassia, and this is not the occupation anymore. The doctors here are from the federation._ It was time to take this to the infirmary, no matter how much he disliked the idea.

He carefully put down his tools, shut the shop, and stepped off in the direction of the infirmary. He was struck as soon as he stepped in by how different the room looked than he remembered. Everything was brighter and cleaner than it had ever been before. The air smelled of antiseptic. _Antiseptic_. He was sure he could feel the stinging in his thigh again. He could feel his heartbeat rising, rising-

“Excuse me, sir? Are you in need of treatment?”

The clear, high pitched voice of a young Bajoran woman spoke from his left. He turned to make eye contact with her and carefully rehearsed his words, so as not not to stutter.

“Yes, thank you. I seem to have cut my hand. It seems to be bleeding a bit more than it is supposed to.” The young Bajoran woman smiled and motioned for Garak to follow her.

“Doctor Bashir will be with you in just a moment” she said, her voice cheerful and bright. _How can anyone in a hospital, a space of such pain, be so happy - wait, Bashir? The doctor. The handsome one. The one you met yesterday._ Garak had forgotten. The young Bajoran woman led Garak over to an examination table and motioned him to sit on it. She turned and walked away from him, still smiling. Garak’s heart was racing, blood pressure rising. The room suddenly seemed small, smaller than he remembered. _No, Elim, the walls are not closing in on you._ He tried to distract himself from that particular panic by focusing on the other one. _Prepare yourself for the pain. Do not show pain. Do not show anxiety. You are an agent - no, former agent, of the Obsidian Order. You do not know fear._ Ha. _If only that were true._

“Mister Garak!”

 _He’s more handsome than you remembered._ Garak did his best to affect a smile.

“Just Garak. Plain, simple, Garak.” _You’ve definitely said that before._ “Hello Doctor.”

Julian nodded in deference. “Right. I remember you saying so. How can I help you today, plain, simple, Garak?” he asked. _He’s smiling. He looks kind. No. That’s a lie. It’s always a lie with doctors. There are no kind doctors. The walls are closing in on you. Leave. Get out now._

“Thank you for your concern, Doctor, but I think this may have been a false alarm. I assure you, I am just fine. I think I’ll be going now, if you don’t mind.”

“Nice try, Garak. You came in here for a reason.” The doctor arranged his body between Garak and the door. “What was it?”

_Run. He’s pushing too hard. He’s got intentions. Who knows what they are._

“I found our conversation the other day most interesting. I simply wanted to say hello.” Garak lied. Julian’s body language softened.

“It’s alright, Garak. You’re safe here.”

_Do not show weakness._

“Of course I am, Doctor. Why would anyone suggest otherwise?”

A corner of the doctor’s mouth turned upwards. The expression was almost affectionate. “I can’t imagine who. So, since that’s established, do you want to tell me what brought you here?”

_Fine. You win, Doctor._

“I seem to have injured my hand while cutting some fabric. I’m sure it would have been fine, only…it seems to continue to bleed, and I wouldn’t want to get blood on the fabric.”

“Of course not.” Julian added with a knowing nod.

_Show him the hand. No. Show him the hand._

“Let’s see that hand.”

Garak hesitated. _You’re going to have to show him the hand. Prepare for the pain._

Julian took a step closer to his patient. “It’s alright” he said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Garak lifted his hand hesitantly towards the Doctor. _This is going to hurt._ Garak held his breath, anticipating the discomfort, the feeling of a hand wrapped too tightly around his, the feeling of his joints creaking and aching under uncareful handling. The doctor wrapped his hand around Garak’s and drew it gently towards his face.

 _That’s different._ Julian traced a finger along the edge of the wound, studying it intently. Garak took a deep, shaky breath. The doctor’s fingers were gentle against his skin. Garak’s stomach fluttered. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him so tenderly. He had prepared himself so intently, but there was no pain, no manhandled discomfort here – only a kind of physical kindness. It was a completely unfamiliar sensation. He raised his eyes to the doctor’s face. Julian’s expression was soft and focused. Garak was sure he was looking at the most beautiful man he had ever seen. The doctor turned the injured hand over in his and met his patient’s eyes.

“It’s only a minor cut,” he reassured. “The back of the hand is dense with blood vessels, so it tends to bleed more than you might expect. I’ll have you back to your sewing in no time.”

Garak nodded. He was unable to really speak. Julian rested the injured hand back in his patient’s lap. He turned to wall behind him and produced an unfamiliar instrument, and completely familiar rag. _So much for a painless experience._ Garak flinched. He had almost accepted the doctor’s kindness, but the memories kept flooding back into his mind. _It burns. Please stop. Oh, shut up. Do you want to die of an infection?_ Julian lifted the injured hand again. He happened to wrap his fingers around it in such a way that they caught the pulse point on the inside of Garak’s wrist, and he paused when he realized his patient’s pulse was racing again.

“This all makes you rather anxious, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“Anxious? Me? Never, Doctor.”

Julian raised an incredulous eyebrow and went to press the damp cloth against Garak’s hand. He felt his patient flinch, again. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he repeated gently. Garak looked unconvinced.

“It’s just bacitracin, Garak. It’s not going to hurt. I promise.” Julian tenderly cleaned the dried blood from around the edges of the wound, and smiled a little as he felt Garak’s hand relaxing into his. “See?” he added, in a tone of “I told you so”. Content with the state of the wound, he lifted the unfamiliar instrument.

“It’s a dermal regenerator,” Julian answered the unspoken question, doing his best to keep his patient’s barely hidden fear at bay. “It won’t hurt either.”

 _You’re acting like a child._ Garak watched the doctor pass the instrument, just as painlessly as he had promised, over the wound. The cut on his hand slowly disappeared. _You’ve embarrassed yourself here, today. Good luck recovering from this._

“How’s that?” Julian asked with a smile, releasing Garak’s hand. Garak studied the skin on the back of his hand. _It’s like you never even cut yourself. Impressive._ He flexed the hand back and forth a bit, and nodded contently.

“Much better. Thank you, doctor. And I would like to offer my sincerest apologies for how I acted here today. It’s unforgivable.”

Julian’s expression softened again. He rested a hand on Garak’s shoulder.

“The Cardassian military didn’t produce particularly compassionate doctors, did it?”

“No, Doctor. It did not.”

Garak could feel the weight of the other man’s hand on his shoulder. It was a heavy, comforting reminder of a safe presence. Garak wasn’t used to feeling safe in anyone’s presence. It crossed his mind that he would prefer to be in this particular presence as much as possible.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Garak. Certainly not for being afraid. But I assure you, you will never have anything to fear from me.”

Garak’s heart flickered. The doctor was so handsome, and there was something about the kindness in his green eyes that made him irresistible. _Oh wow, he has green eyes._ Garak hadn’t fully noticed them before.

“Thank you, Doctor. You’ve been very kind to me.” _Kinder than anyone has ever been before. Kinder than you can process._

“Everyone deserves a little kindness, Garak. No exceptions.”

_You’re in love with him. Oh, You bet I am._

“I ought to thank you for your excellent care, Doctor. Would you, perhaps, allow me to take you to dinner?”

Julian smiled broadly. He looked as if he had been waiting for the question.

“I would love to, Mister Garak.”

_Good job, Garak. Look what happens when you actually let people see what you’re feeling. He’s actually going to have dinner with you. Maybe more than once. Play your cards right, Garak. Maybe this is a presence you can keep close after all._

_Aren’t you glad you decided to seek treatment for that hand?_


End file.
